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Tlie old Oak Tree 


in the Church-yard. 







nx$xm 


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BLANCHE AND HER ERIENDS. 



HETTY HOLYOKE. 

it 


BOSTON: 

PUTNAM AND BROTHER, 
456 Washington Street. 

185 6 . 




'PZ<t 
■ H 


J-nl ered. according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1855 , by 
Putnam and Brother, 

Tr, Iho vjkrk’s Oflice of the District Court of the District of 

Bia&sqchusetts. 

S/'ir- 

>' ' ? -O !i\J. !t 'j » > J 

°OA,e, w cs , 


STEREOTYPED AT THE 
BOSTON STEREOTYPE 


FOUNDRY. 


/ 


S~9^ 


CONTENTS. 




CnATTEE PAGE 

I. — THE OAK TREE 5 

II. — THE STRANGER 8 

III. — ’LEEDY’S STORY * ... 14 

IV. — BLANCHE’S STORY 19 

V. — ’LEEDY’S DREAM 23 

VI. — THE FAIRIES ' 27 

VII. —THE FAIRIES’ RIDE 32 

VIII. — WHAT THE FAIRIES BROUGHT HOME. . . 36 

IX. — AUNT DORA. 40 

X. — BLANCI1IES GARDEN 45 

XL — BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE.* .... 52 

XII. — OLD ELI 57 

XIII. — BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN 62 

XIV. — THE RAINY DAY 66 

XV. —BLANCHE AT WORK 71 

XVI. — ELI’S PARTY 76 

XVII. — THE OLD MAN’S STORY 83 

XVIII. — THE GIIOST THAT TURNED TIIE COFFEE 

MILL 93 

( 3 ) 


4 


CONTENTS 


XIX. — THE SILK WORMS 102 

XX. — THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS, 110 

XXI. — BLANCHIE’S ACCIDENT 117 

XXII. — BLANCHE’S PRESENTS 124 

XXIII. — WATCHING THE BIRDS 129 

XXIV. — THE COCOONERY 135 

XXV. — THE LAST VISIT TO ELI 144 

XXVI. — THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY 151 

XXVII.— THE NEW MINISTER 163 


ttj u Sirrprm. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE OAK TREE. 

NE bright, still sum- 
mer day, a group of 
children were playing 
about the steps of a 
village church. Per- 
haps, children, it was 
the very village where 
you live; but no mat- 
ter about that: all 
young people love to 
play ; and these had spent the whole 
afternoon together, flying from one 

1 * ( 5 ) 



6 


THE OAK TREE. 


game to another, and making all the 
air musical with merry laughs. 

The robins thought this laughter 
was the children’s song to them ; for 
robins don’t know but what children 
were created on purpose to make the 
world look lively for their little bird- 
ships, as they sit dreaming in their 
shady nests. 

So the robins twittered back songs 
as much like the children’s as they 
could make them ; and the tall pine 
trees in the churchyard waved and 
waved against the sky like paint 
brushes, soaking up the sunshine; and 
passing it down to the children, made 
their faces glow again, and their hearts 
leap delightedly. 

Beside the church stood an oak tree 
that spread her branches far and 


THE OAK TREE. 


7 


wide ; and such ancient, knotted, mos- 
sy branches perhaps you never saw: 
they had grown so brittle with age, 
that the wind had broken them in 
places; and the lightning had made 
great scars along the trunk. 

But the tree came out new every 
spring, with a garment of beautiful, 
fresh, green leaves, that covered up all 
her losses, and made a shelter for 
many little birds who built their nests, 
hatched their young, dozed, sang, 
made dainty meals from bugs and flies, 
and altogether had splendid times, hid- 
den away there in the shade. 


m 


V' 


CHAPTER II. 


THE STRANGER. 

NDER this fine old 
tree the children 
seated themselves 
to rest a while, and 
were beginning to 
tell each other 
stories, when they 
espied a stranger 
watching them from 
the church steps. It was a young man 
who seemed to be walking for pleas- 
ure ; and who, when he found that the 
children had observed his presence, 
went towards them, and sat down in 
the grass: in such an easy way, and 
with such a pleasant, smiling face, the 

( 8 ) 



THE STRANGER, 


9 


young folks did not feel afraid of liim 
in the least. 

He asked them to go on with their 
stories, and not mind his presence ; but 
though not exactly afraid, they were a 
little shy at first, and only looked at 
each other and at him, without speak- 
ing a word. 

“ At least you’ll tell me your name, 
and what is in that basket on your 
arm,” he said to little Blanche Ellis, 
who was looking up into his face. 

“ Blanchie,” she answered, “ and 
that is Elise, my sister, and the rest 
are Minnie, and Libby, and Alice.” 

“ And what’s in your basket 1 ” 

“ The rest have flowers ; but I 
picked up these pretty acorns — look ! 
how many ! ” and she opened the 


cover. 


10 


THE STRANGER. 


“Why, that is just what I came in 
search of,” said the stranger. “ I 
thought it would be pleasant to have 
such a noble tree as this, growing near 
the house in which I live ; and these 
acorns, you know, will change into 
oaks if we wait long enough.” 

“ But won’t you have to wait a 
long, long while \ ” asked Blanche. 
“ When I was born, my father planted 
an acorn, and it’s a little bit of a slim 
tree, not much taller than I am now.” 

u I must be patient, then, as my 
father was, wdien he planted the seed 
from which the very oak above us 
grew : he went to heaven long ago, 
and his body lies under that gray 
stone, with the weeping willow over 
it ; but his son and the children, 


THE STRANGER. 


11 


whom he used to love so well, enjoy 
and bless him for the tree.” 

Elise had run across to the willow 
tree, and came back saying, “ The 
name on the stone is Harris : I could 
hardly read, it was so filled up with 
moss.” 

“ Then we know your name ! ” ex- 
claimed Blanche ; “ and I’m so glad 
you want acorns, for you shall have 
mine : see ! here are more ; ” and she 
began emptying her pocket into the 
stranger’s hand. 

“ Thank you, dear ; but I only want 
one or two, and I shall christen my 
tree ‘ Blanche ; ’ and when I get to be 
an old, white-haired grandfather, with 
children playing about me, I shall 
point to the monstrous knotted limbs, 
and the great iron-strong trunk, and 


12 


THE STRANGER. 


the thousands of shining leaves, and 
tell how they were all folded up with 
a dozen more like them, in a little 
girl’s pocket, once. These acorns 
grew last year; but I think they will 
take root.” 

“ Won't that be a nice story? Do 
you suppose they’ll believe it ? ” asked 
Blanche, clapping her hands with de- 
light. 66 There’s my sister ’Leedy can 
tell beautiful stories when we are 
alone together ; but none so funny as 
yours : she was right in the midst of 
one when you came.” 

64 Come, then, ’Leedy,” said the 
stranger, 44 will you not be generous 
to me like Blanche ? Where did you 
find those little flowers ? — what are 
they ? — so delicate and lovely ! ” 

44 Anemones, the very last of the 


THE STRANGER. 


13 


spring,” said Elise, unfastening from 
her bosom and timidly handing them 
to the new comer. 

“ ’Leedy always finds the prettiest 
flowers,” whispered Blanche, 46 and 
tells the prettiest stories : don’t you 
like her 1 I do,” she rattled on. 
“ Come ’Leedy, finish about the oak 
tree.” 

2 



CHAPTER III. 


’leedy’s story. 

WAS only saying,” 
began Elise, 44 that 
those acorns were just 
like the oak tree’s 
children, clinging on 
every stem, like great 
babies afraid to leave 
their mother ; but 
I suppose the tree 
thinks they are the 
most obedient children in the world, 
and that our fathers and mothers are 
very careless to let us run off here 
alone.” 

44 How would you like to have such 
an anxious mother, Blanche ? ” asked 



( 14 ) 


’leedy’s story. 


15 


the stranger. “ I dare say the old tree 
thinks that, after all, it is not of so 
much importance what becomes of 
you ; for all mothers think their chil- 
dren more wonderful than any others ; 
and these acorns she scatters about 
the churchyard might spring into 
noble trees ; and after the church here 
has crumbled to dust, and her own 
trunk fallen, she thinks how grandly 
they will stand up in the daylight — 
her glorious children ! ” 

“ I mean to put back my acorns ! ” 
exclaimed Blanche. “ I didn’t know 
it would disappoint any body if I dug 
out their meat and made them into 
cups and saucers for my doll.” 

“ The poor tree is disappointed 
every year,” said the gentleman ; 
“ for eighty summers she has built 


16 


’leedy’s story. 


up the self-same hopes, and eighty 
autumns has planted her children all 
about her; and, thinking them safe, 
has prepared to take her winter nap ; 
but a drove of pigs have come in and 
eaten them, or some old starved 
donkey has munched them with his 
broken teeth, or else they have rotted 
on the ground.” 

Just then, there came up a wind 
which stirred the oak till she waved 
all her boughs, and rattled her leaves 
overhead ; and Blanche thought it 
seemed *as though she were begging 
them to leave her children alone. 

“ I should not be surprised if that 
were exactly what she is trying to 
say,” answered Henry, — for that was 
the gentleman’s name ; “ but I shall 
take a great deal better care of them 


’leedy’s story. 


17 


than she knows how — plant, and 
water, and fence the young trees 
round ; so that, of all the children 
she watched so tenderly, perhaps the 
only ones that come to any good, will 
be these I am taking from her. 

“You must remember, Blanche, that 
when your pleasures, and things you 
value very much, are taken away, and 
it seems hard to give them up, they 
are only taken for a little while ; and 
you may find them again, some day, 
changed from poor little seeds into 
great spreading trees, that will shelter 
you from the sun.” 

“ Is that the end of your story \ ” 
asked Blanche. “ The last of it 
sounded just like what the minister 
says at church ; only I know what you 
are talking about, and I never know 
2 * 


18 


’leedy’ s story. 


any thing except the words, when he 
is preaching. But I have thought of 
a beautiful story, if you want to hear 
it, about burying my bantam last 
summer : don’t you remember it, 
’Leedy \ ” 

“Yes indeed! but Henry does not 
want to hear about such things : he 
would only laugh at us, as brother 
Frank did.” 

“ I know that Henry will not laugh 
at us,” said the little girl. “Would 
you, after ’Leedy gave you all her 
flowers, and I gave those acorns that 
will make such great trees ? ” 

“ Not for the world ; and I long to 
know about your pet.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


Blanche’s story. 

ELL, the bantam 
died ; and she was 
a real beauty — white 
as snow ; and she 
had the queerest long, 
white pantalets, all 
made of feathers ; 
and was so tame that 
’Leedy and I could 
catch her any time. 
And she w T ould eat corn or crumbs out 
of our hand: sometimes she picked 
too hard ; I suppose she didn’t mean 
to, but it hurt me so that I would 
drop all the corn and run away. 

64 There was a rooster, too, and he 



( 19 ) 


20 


Blanche’s story. 


was just like her, only taller, and not 
quite so cunning ; he has a comb on 
his head and all round his neck, red 
as my coral beads ; he is alive now, 
and struts about the yard, but I think 
he misses Banty, she was such a dear 
little thing. 

“ One morning I went out to the 
door with some crumbs for her. I 
called and called, but she didn’t come : 
so I went into the hen house, and 
there she was, dead as she could 
be, with her head all on one side ! 
Wasn’t it too bad ? 

“We felt so sorry, that our man, 
John, said he would bury her and put 
a stone over the grave. So we made 
ready for the funeral. 

“We went to school in the morning, 
and told Minnie, and Libby, and Alice 



Little Blanche finding the dead Bantam in the Hen-house. rage 20. 
































N 








• * 































> « 


































' : 


• • 











































V 




V 





















































■ 



































Blanche’s story. 


21 


about it ; they knew Banty — so they 
wanted to come ; and that afternoon 
we were so busy dressing up our dolls 
in mourning ! for we thought some- 
body ought to wear black. 

“ Then we formed a procession : 
first, John went with his spade, and 
Banty under his arm ; then Elise 
carried the rooster, with a black veil 
over his face ; Minnie held our Maltese 
kitten, with a long, black scarf 
around her neck ; and then Alice 
came with Spy — that’s the puppy ; and 
I held a dove and a rabbit ; every onj 
with something black over it ; but I’ll 
tell you the best of all : our great 
Newfoundland dog, that’s black all 
over, followed on of his own accord; 
and it seemed just as if he was in 
mourning naturally. 


22 


Blanche’s story. 


“ Then John dug the grave, and 
Alice tolled the great dinner bell ; 
and when I lifted the rooster’s veil, 
so that he could look at poor Banty 
once more, don’t you think he crowed, 
standing in ’Leedy’s hand ! ” 


“ Now, ’Leedy,” said Alice, when 
Blanche had finished her story, “ you 
must tell us that dream you had about 
fairies the other day ; ” and Henry said, 
“ If it is half as interesting as what 
Blanche has told, I should like to 
hear it.” So Elise began. 



CHAPTER V. 


’leedy’s dream. 

LANCHIE and I 
were walking in the 
wood back of aunt 
Dora’s house. It’s a 
beautiful place, full 
of great trees, and 
queer berries, and ail 
kinds of bushes and 
leaves; there are places 
where the moss is so 
soft, and green, and thick, it is just 
like a bed ; and others where the 
grass grows long and pale, because it 
is always in the shade, and the blades 
are very slender and delicate. 

“We came to one of these grassy 



( 23 ) 


24 


’leedy’s dream. 


spots, that had large pine trees stand- 
ing close around it, and only an open- 
ing like a window at the top, to let the 
blue sky look in. The fresh grass and 
the pines, that kept stirring all the 
time, had such a pleasant smell, and 
made a sound like singing — only the 
little birds in the boughs sang louder 
and more clearly; you should have 
heard them tweet, and twitter, and 
trill : sometimes Blanchie can sing 
ever so much like them. 

“ We had been picking partridge ber- 
ries, — you know they are bright red, 
like coral beads, — and I strung them 
into a necklace and bracelets for 
Blanche, and made her a wreath out 
of wild honeysuckle flowers ; and she 
made me the prettiest one out of 


’leedy’s dream. 


25 


nothing but grass. Aunt Dora said 
it was a beauty. 

“ But Blanchie was tired ; and while 
I was fastening on her wreath, she fell 
asleep by my side. I laid her softly 
on the grass ; and it seemed as if the 
sky, away up there above the tall 
pines, was watching over her ; and as 
if the pines were fanning her warm 
face, and singing songs to her so sweet 
and low, that only she could hear 
them in her dreams. 

“ A little brown sparrow hopped 
down out of her nest and looked at 
us ; first with one eye, and then the 
other : such little, round, bright eyes ! 
and then she snapped at a fly, and 
flew away with it in her mouth. 

“ I suppose I fell asleep ; for I leaned 
back in the grass to see if I could find 
3 


26 


’leedy’s dream. 


the sparrow again, up in the pine 
boughs. The grass felt so cool to my 
hot cheeks, that I laid them close to 
it ; and the first thing I knew, it 
seemed as if there were fairies all 
around me. 



CHAPTER VI. 


THE FAIRIES. 

HEY crept up out 
of the grass ; they 
hopped from the pine 
trees, just as the spar- 
row had done; they 
came sliding down on 
the sunbeams, some- 
times whirling over 
and over as they fell, 
but always alighting 
safely. Often they would rest on the 
tip of a grass blade, and hang there 
lightly as snow flakes, and swing. 

The little creatures were all dressed 
up in flowers ; not made into wreaths, 



( 27 ) 


28 


THE FAIRIES. 


as we wear them, but sewed into real 
gowns and aprons. 

“ The tallest fairy looked like a little 
queen ; her skirt was made of a bright 
blue gentian, the long fringe trailing 
on the ground ; and her waist was of 
buttercup petals, smooth as satin ; 
her collar was part of a white jasmine 
blossom ; and her handkerchief was 
a rose leaf. 

44 Around the queen were six soldiers 
dressed in cardinal flowers, with great 
helmets of monkshood, and quivers 
full of pine leaves for arrows, and 
hatchets made of beetles’ legs, all 
sharpened like a saw. 

44 Some of the other fairies wore lily 
leaves for skirts, and mantles of 
violet ; some had tippets made from 
the yellow fur of a bee ; one had a 


THE FAIRIES. 


29 


robe of pink rose leaves quilted to- 
gether, and bordered with delicate 
green moss. 

“ One wore leaves of a japonica, 
that stood out like brocade, and were 
spangled all over with gold and pur- 
ple from a butterfly’s wing ; and she 
wore a jaunty cap of Chinese prim- 
rose, and little heath bells in her ears. 

“ The gentlemen fairies wore darker 
flowers ; all except a few, who were 
real dandies, and had cloaks of magno- 
lia or tulip leaves, and vests of blue for- 
get-me-not, or of nasturtion or poppy. 

“ The soberer ones wore dark-red 
piony leaves, or white and lead-colored 
hollyhocks ; their swords were made 
of grass blades, so heavy and stiff they 
almost weighed the little things down. 

“ You would not wonder that there 

3 * 


30 


THE FAIRIES. 


are so many spider webs on a summer 
morning, if you could see how many 
the fairies need ; how useful they are 
— I mean they seemed to be in my 
dream. 

“ They used them, in different sizes, 
for skip ropes, and swings, and to 
fasten their tents, and harness their 
horses, and sew their delicate flower- 
dresses together. 

“ I could not imagine what they were 
about, when they all began treading 
the grass down in a little circle, and 
only left standing one tall, stout straw ; 
but soon they unrolled a beautiful 
great spider web, and taking it by the 
edges, flew up into the air to shake it 
smooth ; then stretched it over the 
straw into a tent, which they tied 
tight on every side to grass roots. 


THE FAIRIES. 


31 


“ They sprinkled the floor with moss, 
and made beds of velvet rose leaves, 
and tied together violets for pillows, 
and hung up some lily-of-the-valley 
hells for the little women to ring if 
they wanted help ; then the gentlemen 
fairies rode away and left them to 
their nap ; only one or two servants 
staid at the door, with great fans 
made of butterfly wings, to drive off 
bugs and flies.” 



CHAPTER VII. 


THE FAIRIES’ RIDE. 

UCH horses as the 
fairy men had ! some 
were flies, and some 
were beetles ; one 
hopped off on a tiny 
toad, and one scram- 
bled up on the back 
of a bird, and clung 
to her neck while 
she flew out of sight, 
far up above the pines. Some of them 
had chosen grasshoppers ; but they 
jolted their riders well with their long, 
stiff legs and funny hops. One went 
gliding off on the back of a little 
striped snake ; and one or two sat on 

( 32 ) 




The Fairies’ Hide. Fage 32. 



















































































































































- J 


- 

































THE FAIRIES’ RIDE. 


33 


a broad, green lily leaf, and floated in 
the brook. 

“ A few sleepy ones lagged behind ; 
some of these rolled themselves in 
cool plantain leaves, and soon began 
to snore ; some climbed into empty 
birds’ nests, and lay there rocking in 
the breeze, the leaves all fluttering 
round them, and the mosquitos blow- 
ing their trumpets, but not biting, for 
I suppose they dont like the taste of 
fairy flesh ; and some, dancing about 
till they were wide awake, perched 
themselves on the rail fence that 
runs through the wood, and began to 
fasten buttons on their curious little 
vests, and darn up rents in their velvet 
cloaks. 

“ Pretty soon I heard a great tram- 
pling over the grass, and back the riders 


34 


THE FAIRIES’ RIDE. 


came, in the greatest glee, singing and 
laughing, and their cheeks as red as 
cherries in the sun. 

“ They all had wreaths of grass on 
their heads, such as Blanchie had made 
for me, only their heads were so small 
that the wreaths looked like parasols, 
and made the prettiest little shadows 
dance round them on the grass.” 

“But how can you remember all 
these little things, Elise 1 ” interrupted 
Henry ; “ and how came you to notice 
sunbeams and shadows, and to think 
that the sky was looking down to see 
Blanche \ ” 

“ O, aunt Dora walks with us very 
often, and she points out ever so many 
things I never noticed before, and tells 
us we must always be looking to find 
what is beautiful and curious. No 


THE FAIRIES’ RIDE. 


35 


matter how many questions we ask, 
she is never tired of answering them ; 
but my story is almost finished ; may 
I go on 1 ” 

“ O, yes ; I am delighted with it,” 
said Henry ; “ and we needn’t ask 

Blanche, for here she sits, with her 
eyes wide open, waiting to hear about 
the fairy people.” 

Blanche did not answer a word, but 
kept her eyes fixed on Elise, who 
proceeded. 



CHAPTER VIII. 


WHAT THE FAIRIES BROUGHT HOME. 

EHIND every one 
of the fairy riders 
was a saddle bag 
made of stout leaves, 
and filled with what- 
ever he had discovered 
in the wood. 

“ One had his bag 
crowded with mosqui- 
tos; he had stunned 
them with a blow of his beetle hatch- 
et, and crumpled them, legs, and wings, 
and all together. As he pulled them 
out, the fairy ladies exclaimed how fat 
they were, and told how they would 
boil them into a delicious soup. 



( 36 ) 


WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 37 


“ One had, he said, some beautiful 
emeralds, which he had shaken off 
from a rose leaf ; but when he came to 
pour them out upon a mushroom that 
stood before the tent, the silly fellow 
found they were only drops of dew, 
which had looked green because they 
rested on the leaf. The fairies had a 
good laugh over his mistake. 

“ One had brought some butterfly 
down, crimson, purple, bright brown, 
and silver and gold. This, he said, he 
would weave into a furry cape for the 
fairy he loved best. One had nipped 
off the honeyed ends of some flower 
tubes ; one had brought drops of fra- 
grant pitch from the pines ; one had 
gathered the pollen out of roses and 
lilies, for spice ; one had brought some 
wintergreen berries; and the queer 
4 


38 WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 

little fellow who rode on a toad, had 
sawed off the stem of a pitcher-plant 
that was full of dew, and tried to 
bring it home ; but the toad, in scram- 
bling through the grass, had spilled al- 
most every drop ; and besides, had 
bruised the fairy’s mantle, scratched 
his face, and almost shaken him off. 

“While they were talking, and show- 
ing their treasures, one of the fairy 
girls — a lovely creature in a violet- 
colored robe — had picked a buttercup, 
stitched the leaves nicely together, and 
tom out the stamens ; so it looked like 
a beautiful golden bowl. 

“ She filled this with dew almost to 
the brim, cooled it with some flakes 
of snow that one of the fairies had 
found in a cave, and sweetened it with 
honey ; for one of them had brought 


WHAT THEY BROUGHT HOME. 39 


home the bag of a bee ; then she 
sprinkled in a little rose dust to flavor 
it, and stirred it with the spicy, hon- 
eyed pistil of an orange blosom. 

64 The bowl was passed around, and 
all the fairies drank. Just as one of 
the little men was bringing it to me, I 
awoke and found myself lying all 
alone with Blanchie in the wood ; her 
honeysuckle wreath had not faded, 
only on one side the flowers were 
crushed, where she had slept on them ; 
we picked up our berries and flowers, 
and I hurried home to tell aunt Dora 
my dream.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


AUNT DORA. 

TJT who is this aunt 
Dora you talk so much 
about \ ” asked Henry. 

“ O, I can tell,” 
exclaimed Blanch ; 
“ she is mother’s sis- 
ter ; she is real kind, 
and beautiful, too, and 
she tells the nicest 
stories, funny as they 
can be ; sometimes they make you 
laugh, and sometimes cry.” 

44 Yes, we think every thing of aunt 
Dora,” said Elise ; 44 and I know one 
thing, I am sorry enough that she is 
going to be married this summer.” 

( 40 ) 



AUNT DORA. 


41 


“ Why, don’t you like the gentleman 
she has chosen l ” asked Henry, sud- 
denly. 

“ I don’t know him ; and he will not 
care for us, nothing but little girls ; 
for he is a minister, the new minister 
who is going to preach in this very 
church. I know that when aunt Dora 
is with him, we shall feel afraid, and 
perhaps he will send us away.” 

44 But some ministers are very fond 
of children, and are always glad to 
have them near,” said Henry. 44 1 
would not feel troubled until I had 
seen this new uncle, if I were you. 

And now, Blanchie, you must give me 

% 

a kiss, for I am going home.” 

44 O, I’ll give you twenty,” said 
Blanche ; 44 but see, I have made you 
a wreath of grass, just like the one 

4 * 


42 


AUNT DORA. 


’Leedy wore in the wood ; let me put 
it on your head, and perhaps it’ll make 
you have fairy dreams.” 

“ Why, how funny a man would 
look in a wreath ! ” laughed Elise ; 
but Henry stooped while the little girl 
fastened her wreath about his brown, 
curly hair, and whispered to him, “ I 
love you better than any one else in 
the world, except aunt Dora, and 
mother, and father, and ’Leedy.” 

Henry picked up his straw hat, but 
did not put it on until he was out of 
sight ; he kept looking back and bow- 
ing to Blanchie, and the last she saw 
of him, the wind was blowing his hair 
away from the high, white forehead, 
and tangling it in among the grass, as 
he disappeared. 

Elise and Blanche went home, talk- 


AUNT DORA. 


43 


ing all the way about their new ac- 
quaintance, and wondering if he had 
come to live in the village, and if 
they should ever meet him when they 
went to walk. 

Blanche said she should look into 
the churchyard the very next morn- 
ing, on her way to school ; but Elise 
told her that they must take care and 
not be troublesome, as he might not 
always feel like talking with them. 

But Blanchie seemed to think that 
the churchyard was the stranger’s 
home, and to feel as sure of finding 
him there, as of finding the buttercups 
and dandelions, and the old oak tree. 

All that afternoon she watched the 
sky, and wondered if the next day 
would be pleasant. Then she would 
run to the garden, and look over and 


44 


AUNT DORA. 


over again at her flowers, to see if the 
buds would be open by another day ; 
for she meant to gather a beautiful 
bunch, and give them — to whom do 
you suppose 1 


CHAPTER X. 


blanchie’s garden. 

HE last visit aunt 
Dora made, she had 
persuaded Mrs. Ellis 
to give her children 
a piece of ground in 
her garden, and seeds 
and plants, and to let 
them take care of 
it themselves, and 
gather flowers when- 
ever they chose. 

In the spring the gardener would dig 
and rake it for them, and he taught 
them how to plant seeds ; and how to 
tell which were weeds and which 
flowers, after they came up. Elise 

( 45 ) 



46 


blanchie’s garden. 


learned very fast, but Blanche was apt 
to pull up her asters and balsams, and 
leave nice little patches of sorrel, purs- 
lain, and pigweed. 

All around this garden they had a 
border of box, like a little hedge ; and 
it ran across the middle, so as to divide 
Blanchie’s from ’Leedy’s part. Some- 
times the gardener would give them 
a gillyflower, or a rose in full bloom, 
from the greenhouse ; then they 
would dig a place with their trowels, 
and sink the pot in the earth, till it 
looked as if it had grown there all 
summer long. 

’Leedy’s garden looked very much 
like her mother’s ; the plants grew in 
pretty bunches, and some of them 
were fastened up with neat little 
frames or sticks. She had one tall 


blanchie’s garden. 


47 


carnation, with bright red spicy 
flowers ; from this she picked as many 
as twenty blossoms during the sum- 
mer; and they looked beautifully in 
vases, or in the bouquets she gave 
away. 

Then Elise had some delicate little 
German forget-me-nots, with flowers 
not more than large enough to make 
a wreath for a doll ; and she had even- 
ing primroses, that do not blossom 
until almost dark ; and then the buds 
burst all at once, and they look like 
beautiful great white butterflies scat- 
tered over the garden. 

But Blanche’s garden was a funny 
place; she wanted to have so many 
different things in it, and she changed 
her mind so many times in the day. 

There was a bunch of millet for her 


48 


blanchie’s garden. 


canary bird, and a patch of chick- 
weed ; and there were tall blades of 
corn, which Blanchie was fond of 
parching in winter time ; and a great 
staring sunflower, for Banty and the 
other hens. They love to tear out the 
fat ripe seeds, and nothing pleased 
Blanche so much as to scatter these 
handfuls, and watch the chickens 
scampering here and there, and tread- 
ing on each other’s toes, to pick 
them up. 

In one corner she had a hill of po- 
tatoes for a poor old man who used to 
work in her fathers garden ; he had 
grown too old and sick to do it any 
more, and he lived all alone by him- 
self, in a black old tumble-down 
house ; his name was Eli, and he 
loved Blanche dearly. 


blanchie’s garden. 


49 


She had plenty of caraways, be- 
cause she liked them in seed-cakes, 
and thought they would taste better 
coming out of her own garden. There 
was a melon vine, too, which came up 
of itself ; and Blanche was on the point 
of throwing it away for a weed, when 
the gardener told her to wait a little 
while. 

It kept running and running along 
the ground, and had beautiful striped 
leaves ; one morning she found a bud, 
and this opened into a handsome flower, 
yellow as gold. 

Very soon the flower wilted, and 
Blanche was so disappointed that she 
wanted again to pull up the whole 
vine ; but the gardener kept saying, 
“ Only wait, and you’ll have a nice 
melon yet.” 


5 


50 


blanchie’s garden. 


Surely enough, there came one, at 
first as large as a nut ; hut it grew 
every clay ; so fast, that Blanche used 
often to measure it with her apron, and 
make a deep crease where the measure 
ended, so as to find the next day how 
much larger her melon had become ; 
but somehow, when the next day 
came, the crease was always gone. 

She tried to have one border of 
flowers ; and in a corner of her gar- 
den J ohn had planted some candy- 
tuft, in a great D, because that stands 
for Dora ; but she had not many be- 
sides her rosebush and gillyflower. 

Sometimes, when Blanche was walk- 
ing home from school, she would pick 
all the gay flowers she could find, hur- 
ry down to her garden and set their 
stems into the ground, as if they were 


blanchie’s garden. 


51 


growing ; but of course these quickly 
wilted in the sun, as they had not 
any roots ; and then such dismal look- 
ing things you never saw, with the 
brown, faded leaves and buds. 



CHAPTER XI. 


BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 

LANCHE was very 
fond of flowers. It 

delighted her to stay 
in the greenhouse, 

wandering about 
wherever the gardener 
went, watching him 
work, and asking all 
kinds of questions 
about all kinds of 
things. 

There were vines trained all over 
the glass, and hanging from these, 

great bunches of white and purple 

grapes, as sweet and juicy as they 
could be, Blanche knew, for she had 

( 52 ) 




Blanche in the Green-house. Page 52. 





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BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 53 


often eaten them ; and there were light 
passion-flower vines, covered with ten- 
drils and rich purple flowers ; and ole- 
anders, looking like bunches of bright 
pink roses ; and orange trees, full of 
fragrant blossoms, and ripe yellow 
fruit. 

There was one plant which she ad- 
mired very much, it was so curious ; if 
her dress brushed it as she ran past, 
drops of honey would shake out from 
every flower; then she would stand 
and watch till another drop would 
come creeping into each nectary, as 
bright and clear as dew; this had a 
long name, that Blanche could never 
remember ; so I don’t think there ii 
any use in telling it to you ; it is, I 
believe, one kind of honeysuckle. 

Another strange thing was a sensi 
5 * 


54 BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 

tive plant, with wide branches full of 
delicate little leaves, which spread out 
on every side, as if they enjoyed the sun- 
shine ; but whenever any one touched 
the branches, these leaves would close 
so fast together you could hardly pick 
them apart again with a pin. 

The gardener was growing old, and 
had the rheumatism so much that his 
back had become stiff, and it was 
hard for him to stoop very often ; so 
Blanche would stand beside him, and 
pick up, one by one, the tiny flower 
pots, when he was transplanting seeds 
or cuttings. 

This was a little thing for her to do, 
but a great help to him ; and Blanche 
was such a loving little soul, that it 
was pleasure enough for her to make 
any one happy ; she did not ask any 
other reward. 


BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 55 

But often the gardener would think 
how kind she was to leave her play 
for the sake of pleasing him ; so he 
would pick her whatever she wanted 
most among his flowers. 

One day he gave her the largest, 
sweetest bunch of grapes ; he made 
her pick off one or two to see how nice 
they were, so ripe you could see every 
seed through the clear skin ; then he 
picked some beautiful tea-roses, and 
some cunning little pink monthly 
roses, and heliotropes, and pinks. 

Blanche thought she had never seen 
a prettier, brighter bouquet, and was 
going home to ask her mother if she 
might not invite Libby and Alice to 
come and share it with her. 

She thought, as she hurried along 
the garden walk, that if her mother 


56 BLANCHE IN THE GREENHOUSE. 


said “ yes,” they could bring their 
dolls, have a kind of a doll party, and 
spread out her little China tea set ; and 
what do you suppose she meant to 
have for supper 1 Grapes and caraway 
seeds ! 


CHAPTER XII. 


OLD ELI. 


ER mother stood in 
the doorway, dressed 
for a walk: Blanche 
showed her flowers, 
and asked eagerly if 
|^_she might do as she 
wished. 

Mrs. Ellis thought 
a moment, and then 
said, “ Perhaps so. I 
cannot tell yet. Put your flowers in 
water, and we will take a little walk ; 
by the time we come home I shall have 
made up my mind.” 

Blanche was always delighted to go 
with her mother, and flew away to do 

( 57 ) 



58 


OLD ELI. 


as she was bid ; she danced down the 
avenue, opened the gate, and waited 
till her mother came ; then off again, 
as if the wind were blowing her. She 
ran back at last, with her hands full 
of ripe blackberries and buttercups ; 
but Mrs. Ellis said, — 

“We are going to see a poor old 
sick man ; don’t you want to carry them 
to him \ ” 

Blanche was delighted, and could 
hardly wait until they reached Eli’s 
door. When they went in, she waited 
until her mother had spoken, then 
went to the bed side with her flowers, 
and poured the berries out of her little 
hand, all stained with their juice, into 
the hand of the sick man which was 
pale and wrinkled, and almost as cold 
as if he were dead. 


OLD ELI. 


59 


He thanked her, and told how much 
he loved flowers, and how often he had 
seen her digging in her little garden ; 
then he put the berries, one by one, 
into his mouth, and smacked his lips, 
told how sweet they were, and how he 
could almost taste the sunshine that 
had ripened them. 

Blanche watched him, her eyes 
sparkling with joy ; then she whispered 
to her mother a moment, the door 
opened, and away she ran towards 
home. 

Mrs. Ellis and Eli were talking to- 
gether so busily about his sickness, 
and some clothes she was having made 
for him, that they hardly missed 
Blanche ; until the latch rattled, kept 
rattling, — for she was not tall enough 
to open it, — and her mother arose to 
let her in. 


60 


OLD ELI. 


She was out of breath, she had run 
so fast ; her cheeks were red as roses ; 
and her curly hair was flying all about 
the brim of her straw hat ; she had, 
folded up in the very leaves the gar- 
dener cut for her to take them home 
in, her bunch of grapes ; and she 
had brought besides all her flowers. 

You never saw any one as pleased 
as old Eli when she gave them to him ; 
he looked at each of the flowers sep- 
arately, and held up both of his hands, 
and even the tears rolled down his old, 
withered cheeks. 

Blanche asked her mother what he 
could be crying about, and couldn’t 
very well understand why a person 
should cry because he was happy. 

But old Eli had not many friends, 
and was so poor that he lived on the 


OLD ELI. 


61 


simplest food. There was nothing in 
his house except what he really need- 
ed ; crockery cups and saucers, and 
chairs he had made himself ; so you 
may judge how glad he was of the 
flowers, which were beautiful enough 
to ornament a palace, and the deli- 
cious, juicy grapes. 

6 


CHAPTER XIH. 


BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 


ETER this visit, 
Blanche went to see 
, Eli almost every day ; 
and he grew so fond 
of her that he would 
listen for hours, ex- 
pecting her, and, 
when he heard those 
little quick footsteps 
approaching, would 
hobble over to open the door, and look 
so pleased, and listen so eagerly to all 
the little girl could tell him. 

Eli had made a nice little cricket 
on purpose for Blanche ; had stuffed 
and covered it with a piece of bright, 

( 62 ) 







BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 63 


blue leather, which some one had 
given him. 

So, after she had shown him the 
things her mother had sent, and the 
flowers she had picked up on the way, 
she would sit down at the old man’s 
feet, and tell him about her pets and 
her garden, and all about things in 
the greenhouse, and her studies at 
school. 

If Blanche had not behaved well, 
and had been punished at home, she 
always told Eli ; because he was sure 
to be sorry for her, and tell her not to 
be discouraged, but try again, and see 
if she could not do better. 

When she had a present of a new 
book, or received a little note from 
aunt Dora, she would take them to 
him, though he could not read a word. 


64 BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 

Elise would read the note to her until 
she knew it by heart, so she could tell 
every thing it said; and there was 
often a message for him ; when there 
was, he felt so pleased that he made 
Blanche say it over two or three 
times. 

He often ‘ told her how glad she 
ought to be that she could go to 
school, and learn to read and write, 
and to do many other things. 

So that when she grew old, if she 
should be poor, and obliged to live all 
by herself, she need not be lonely, but 
could read and think. 

Sometimes Blanche and Elise would 
go together to the old man’s house; 
and while she was playing with her 
doll, her older sister would read aloud, 
out of the Bible, or one of their own 
story books. 


BLANCHE AND THE OLD MAN. 65 


Eli liked the Bible best; but he 
knew that the stories were more inter- 
esting to them. For this reason he 
would often ask for one, when all the 
while he was longing to hear the good 
book, which told about the beautiful 
heaven that would very soon be his 
home. 

You see by this, that no one is so 
weak and poor but he can give up 
something, and do something to make 
others happy. I have known people 
who were strong and rich, and said 
they would like to make every one as 
comfortable as themselves, only they 
didn’t know how. 

The trouble was, they were not 
willing, like Eli, to give up their own 
wishes* for the sake of others, 

6 * 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE RAINY DAY. 

OW we will go hack 
to the day when 
Blanche and Elise 
were resting under 
the oak in the church- 
yard ; and the strange 
gentleman they liked 
so much, sat down on 
the grass to talk with 
them. 

Blanche, as I told you, wandered 
about the house all the rest of that 
afternoon ; wondering if it would be 
fair to-morrow, and laying plans in 
case she should see Henry again : you 
may judge of her disappointment when 



( 66 ) 


THE RAINY DAY. 


67 


she awoke the next morning, and found 
that it rained fast. 

Her mother seemed pleased ; for she 
said it was pleasant to have a quiet, 
rainy day now and then : one could 
read and sew, without any danger 
of interruption. She was cutting out 
some work, and Elise was seated at 
her desk, to write a long letter to 
aunt Dora; but poor Blanche did not 
feel like reading, and even grew tired 
of her dolls. 

She went from window to window, 
and could only see heavy, lead-colored 
clouds in the sky, and her bantam 
paddling about in the rain ; his 
smooth, white feathers all rough and 
muddy. She thought of the gardener 
working among his beautiful flowers, 
and wished she had wings like a bird, 


68 


THE RAINY DAY. 


that she might fly to the greenhouse, 
and make him a call. 

Then she thought of old Eli, how 
he would sit alone all day, with his 
hands folded ; no pleasant sunshine to 
brighten up his little room, no Elise to 
read to him, no Blanche to tell him 
stories. She felt glad that ’Leedy had 
stopped on her way home, the day be- 
fore, to leave him some of the flowers 
they gathered in the wood: he could 
look at their delicate leaves, and think 
of the good God who is willing to 
take so much pains with those tiny 
things ; and yet who loves each of his 
children better than a great many 
flowers. 

Then Blanche went to the table 
where her mother was sitting, and 
watched her measure, and pin the pat- 


THE RAINY DAY. 


69 


terns down, and cut out the cloth for 
her father’s shirts; and then baste 
them nicely together, and make each 
into a little roll, ready for the seam- 
stress. 

On the table lay a piece of cloth 
that was like cotton on one side, but 
on the other soft and warm as wool. 
This was cotton-flannel, Mrs. Ellis 
said, and made very comfortable 
clothes. 

“ How I do wish Eli could have a 
shirt from it ! Why won’t you make 
him one, mother 'l ” asked Blanche. 

“ I cannot, because I have so much 
w r ork to do,” answered her mother ; 
“what a pity it is that the old man 
has not some friend who has plenty 
of time, and is willing to work for 
him ! ” 


70 


THE RAINY DAY. 


“ O, I have time, and no one else 
can be more willing,” said Blanche. 
“ Pray let me try, mother — you shall 
see how nicely I’ll sew ! ” 

“ But if you begin it, my dear, you 
must finish all the plain sewing ; and 
there are a great many seams : you 
must promise not to leave one of 
them.” 

“Not a single one ; only let me 
begin.” 



CHAPTER XV. 


BLANCHE AT WORK. 


LANCHE sewed 
away bravely for half 
an hour, hardly speak- 
ing a word ; then she 
began to look over her 
work, and count the 
seams, and wonder 
how many more she 
must do ; at last she 
laid it down, and went 
to look out of the window. 

So she idled away a whole hour ; but 
her mother said nothing ; for she knew 
that little girls, who are not accustomed 
to work, are easily tired when they at- 



( 71 ) 


72 


BLANCHE AT WORK. 


tempt it ; and she was willing to have 
Blanche rest a while. 

But when she came back to stand by 
the table again, and sigh, and wish it 
wouldn’t rain, and that she had some- 
thing to amuse her, Mrs. Ellis asked 
if she had finished the shirt. 

“ Why, no, indeed, mother ; and I’m 
so sick of the old thing, I do wish you 
had never cut it out. My thread 
tangled and kept breaking, and my 
hands grew so warm, that the needles 
bent ; and see this spot where I pricked 
my finger, and it bled ; asid see these 
great gobbly places. O, dear ! ” and 
she threw it down again impatiently. 
“ It is worse even than my dolls. 
I thought they were troublesome 
enough.” 


BLANCHE AT WORK. 


73 


64 But, Blanchie, your dolls do not 
need to be dressed : they are just as 
well without it; for they are only 
made of cloth and sawdust ; they do 
not have cold hands and feet, and poor 
old aching bones, like Eli.” 

44 No, mother ; and after I have 
worked for them, they cannot look 
pleased about it, and be so happy that 
it makes me happy too, as poor old Eli 
does.” 

Just then Elise came into the room; 
and when Blanche told her what she was 
doing, said she would help a little while. 
So the sisters sat near together, and 
the way their needles flew ! They 
took stints ; and though ’Leedy always 
finished first, Blanche did not care ; 
for she said it was only because she 
was younger than Elise. 

7 


74 


BLANCHE AT WORK. 


Now and then she pricked her fin- 
ger, or looked up with a sorrowful 
face, because a knot had come in her 
thread ; but Elise would untangle it, 
and before very long they came to the 
end of the last seam. 

Blanchie’s little hands were never 
so cramped before — the fingers fairly 
ached ; and she wondered if Eli’s felt 
any worse when he had the rheuma- 
tism. 

Mrs. Ellis was so pleased with her 
children’s industry, that she left her 
own work, in order to finish off the 
shirt; so that Blanche could carry it 
to Eli the very next day. 

•She told them that, if the old man 
was willing, they might have a little 
party at his house ; might take their 
supper in a basket, and invite Minnie 


BLANCHE AT WORK. 


75 


and Libby to go with them. They 
felt sure Eli would be as delighted as 
they were themselves with the plan, 
and went to bed thinking that, after 
all, it is not so bad to have, now and 
then, a rainy day. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


ELI’S PARTY. 


jHE next morning, 
| bright and early, 
SP Blanche was at the 

Tpl 

window, looking up 
at the sky ; which was 
clear and blue as 
! though there had 
never been such a 
| thing as a cloud. 

The trees all shone 
in the sun, their leaves were washed 
so clean from dust ; and the grass hung 
heavy with glittering rain drops. 

The bantam came in sight, as clean 
as though he had just been washed; 
he clapped his wings and crowed, at 

(76 



ELI’S PARTY. 


77 


the sight of Blanche. Then a thrush 
fluttered out from a bush, and flew far, 
far up into the sky ; singing so charm- 
ingly, singing the same notes over and 
over again, as if he were saying, “ O, I 
am glad, glad, glad ! and I mean to tell 
it till the air is full of my joy, and every 
one who hears it will be glad as I ! ” 

Blanche wished that she could fill 
the whole world with music and glad- 
ness, once, like the thrush ; she 
thought, “ At least, we can sing to old 
Eli this afternoon, fill his little room 
with music, and make him feel as glad 
as we.” 

It was Wednesday, and school would 
only keep half a day ; so they had 
plenty of time. Elise washed the 
breakfast cups, so that Biddy could 
make them some cake; and Blanche 
7 * ; > » , 


78 


ELl’s PARTY. 


ran down to her friend the gardener, 
and told him her mother wished for a 
handsome bouquet, to stand in the cen- 
tre of the table. 

While he was arranging the flowers, 
she went to Eli’s house, tapped on the 
window, and laughed at his surprise 
because she came so early. He w r as 
very much pleased at the thought of 
their visit, and that was all Blanche 
could wait to hear ; but the old man 
called her back to ask if he could in- 
vite one friend of his own. 

She thought it would be very funny 
if he could not ask whom he chose to 
his own house. 

Mrs. Ellis told Blanche that if she 
did not learn her lesson well that 
morning, she would be obliged to keep 
her at home in the afternoon ; and 


ELI S PARTY. 


79 


Blanche studied hard, as you may sup- 
pose ; but never a lesson was so diffi- 
cult, she thought ; the letters seemed 
to change into cups and saucers, and 
flowers, and dolls’ faces, but she said 
every word correctly at last. 

I cannot tell you half they enjoyed 
in their party. Mrs. Ellis was not 
afraid to trust her children with Eli, 
she knew him to be such a good old 
man ; and she wanted them, besides, 
to learn that the best and easiest way 
of being happy ourselves, is to make 
others happy. 

They played games — Puss in the 
Corner, Hunt the Slipper, and ever so 
many more which Eli had never seen, 
and which amused him greatly. He 
was too lame to run about with them ; 
but sat in his great chair, and watched 


80 


ELI’S PARTY. 


their play as eagerly as though he were 
a child himself. 

He asked Elise to stand up on a 
stool, and take down a long, black 
box, which lay on the closet shelf. It 
was covered with dust ; for Eli said 
it had not been opened for ten years ; 
but he took out of it a violin, and 
after a little tuning and scraping, 
began to play all kinds of merry 
tunes. 

Blanche was delighted : she thought 
this music better than the thrush’s 
song, and asked him why he had never 
played to her before. 

“ O,” said Eli, “ I had forgotten all 
about my violin, and was too sick and 
low-spirited to play if I had remembered 
it ; but this afternoon I feel like a 
young man again, and now I must see 





Old Eli playing 


on the Violin 


Page 80 














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• • A 

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•' - 






• / 












k 5 ’P 

'V. ■ . 























































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THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 113 


more than a wrinkled skin, and appar- 
ently dead. 

By watching this from day to day, 
you would find it grow drier, harder, 
and darker, until it was like a shell 
of brown — dark, and almost as hard as 
a chestnut shell. * 

But touch it with your finger, and 
you will find it moves a little — quiv- 
ers as though it were hurt. It has no 
eyes, no mouth or feet, is only a roll 
with strange-looking marks about the 
head, like ’ears : these marks, in time, 
will change to wings. 

To go back to the cocoons : when 
silk is to be made from them, they are 
taken from the frames, the loose silk 
torn off, and then gathered into bas- 
kets. At Mr. Ellis’s cocoonery the 
10 * 


114 THE LITTLE COFFIN MAKERS. 

worms often made heaps of these 
balls, higher than Blanche’s head. 

They are then baked in an oven. 
This destroys the chrysalis inside, which 
is the brown thing I have described to 
you, — all that is left of the worm ; — 
then they are thrown into hot water, 
reeled, and woven into silk tit for 
dresses after it has been dyed ; or else 
for sewing silk. 

But if the cocoons are not baked, 
and a few are usually kept for eggs, 
you will tind that, before long, one end 
begins to grow wet and look dark ; and 
then you will see two little feather-like 
feelers come out ; and at last what 
went in a great worm, will creep forth 
a pure white miller ! 

These millers do not eat any thing ; 
they are picked off from the cocoons, 


THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 115 


and placed upon sheets of clean paper, 
which ttiey cover all over with the tiny 
eggs I told you about at first ; then 
they fold their beautiful white wings 
and die. 

Blanche lives in America, you know, 
and this is the way silk worms are 
raised by Americans ; but in China 
and other warm countries, they are hot 
all kept in houses : they live in the 
open air, upon trees, like our cater- 
pillars, and spin their cocoons among 
the boughs ; though the finest kinds of 
silk are always raised under shelter. 

When you look at your own silk 
gown or gay bonnet ribbon, you must 
think of the poor little worms which 
worked so hard, and even died, in order 
that you might be finely dressed. 

And you must think whether you 


116 THE LITTLE COFFIN-MAKERS. 

ever did half as much as this for the 
comfort and happiness of others : you 
would not want, I am sure, to be out- 
done by a mere worm ! 



CHAPTER XXL 


blanchie’s accident. 

HE rooms in the co- 
coonery were made 
with trap doors in the 
floor; and Mrs. Ellis 
had told Blanche that 
when one of these 
had been left open, 
she must go to an- 
other room ; for in 
playing near it, she 
might easily fall and injure herself. 

But Blanche had never seen the 
worms wind their cocoons ; and 
the only room in which they were 
beginning, had three trap doors wide 
open. She thought there could be no 

( 117 ) 



118 blanchie’s accident. 

harm for once ; she would be very care- 
ful, and only remain a little while ; so 
she walked on from frame to frame, 
hardly seeing where she went, until 
something upon her neck startled her. 

She knew that silk worms never 
bite, but this took hold closely, and 
moved from side to side ; then she felt 
threads go across, and all at once 
thought it might be a spider. 

It was a silk worm, which had 
chosen Blanchie’s white neck for a 
frame, and was beginning to make his 
cocoon. 

The little girl put her hand 
there, felt his cold back, started, and 
fell. 

She did not know any more until 
she awoke in the cellar of the cocoon- 
ery ; where it was damp and cold, and 


blanchie’s accident. 


119 


filled with a disagreeable odor, from 
the withered mulberry leaves and dead 
worms. 

Only a little light came in through 
the trap door above ; she tried to call, 
but was so frightened and so faint that 
she could not speak a word. She 
heard J ohn saying that Mrs. Ellis had 
sent him for Blanche ; it was long past 
her school hour; but she could not 
answer. 

Then a man came with a great bas- 
ket of dead leaves, which he began to 
throw through the trap door. Blanche 
thought that she would be buried, and 
never see her mother and Elise again. 
She thought how poor old Eli would 
miss her ; and about the visit to Henry ; 
and dear aunt Dora, who loved her so 
well. 


120 blanchie’s accident. 

The man had stopped for some pur- 
pose ; he came again with the leaves ; 
one or two fell upon Blanchie’s face. 
She thought how horrible it would be 
to have the door shut, and be left there 
alive, wdth all those dead worms, and 
rats, perhaps, running over her. 

She heard John say, “ It’s a great 
load : let me help you lift it.” 

44 Yes,” said the man ; 44 but it’s a 
deep cellar ; ’twould take many a load 
like this to fill it up : only look 
down.” 

John looked ; saw Blanche’s pale 
face away down there in the dark; 
and in another second had jumped 
through the doorway, and stood be- 
side her. 

She was very cold, and her eyes 
were shut, for she had fainted again. 


blanchie’s accident. 


121 


John thought her dead, and called for 
the man to open the outer door and let 
him bring her above. 

A pitiful sight she was, when he 
took her into the sunshine again ; her 
muslin dress was torn and soiled ; her 
hair was wet with blood ; and her face 
as white as marble. 

In this state she was carried home ; 
and such a stir and fright as there was 
in the house in consequence ! 

Blanche, though, like other children, 
she was sometimes disobedient, was yet 
a very gentle and loving child, and had 
many friends ; all of whom were sur- 
prised and shocked when they heard 
the news. She felt her mother’s tears 
falling upon her face, as she bent over 
her ; and she heard John telling Biddy 
how he found her in the cellar ; then 
11 


122 blanchie’s accident. 

the gardener came running in to see if 
there was any hope, for he thought the 
world of Blanche ; and as for poor old 
Eli, they dared not tell him : his heart 
would have broken at the thought of 
losing his pet. 

When, at last, Blanche could speak, 
she tried to ask her mother to forgive 
her disobedience; but Mrs. Ellis told 
her not to think of that, she had suf- 
fered more than enough for punish- 
ment ; and the good mother kissed 
her, and told her to try and sleep. 

But just then the physician came. 
He bandaged Blanchie’s head, and said 
that the wound was not very deep; 
but one of her legs had been broken 
by the fall, and it would be a great 
while before she could run about 
again. 


blanchie’s accident. 


123 


The little girl suffered dreadfully 
while the limb was dressed ; but she 
did not complain, for though no one 
had told her so, she knew that it was 
all her own fault ; and it made her feel 
even worse, to see all about her so 
gentle and kind. 

Her mother staid with her that 

i 

night ; and though she still suffered, 
it was beautiful to feel those tender 
arms about her, and know that she 
was yet to live on earth with her dear 
friends. Before morning Blanche fell 
into a quiet sleep. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


Blanche’s presents. 

T was very hard, in 
the long summer days, 
to be shut up in one 
room; and not even 
able to walk across 
that. Blanche had 
never kept quiet so 
long before since she 
first learned to walk. 
Sometimes the tears 
would come into her eyes, when Elise 
bid her good by before going to 
school ; and afterwards, when she 
watched her sister skipping along 
through thes unshine, stopping now 

( 124 ) 



Blanche’s presents. 


125 


and then, to pick a berry or flower, or 
to kiss her hand to Blanche. 

But Blanchie had a great deal to 
amuse her ; every one seemed kind 
and thoughtful, never tired of doing 
for the invalid. The truth is, that 
when she was well, Blanche had been 
kind and thoughtful, never tired of 
doing for others ; and now she was in 
trouble, they remembered it. 

You must not forget this, your own 
turn may come to need friends ; and 
if you have none, think whether it is 
not your own fault. 

’Leedy seldom came from school 
without something for Blanche ; the 
boys wrote her little pieces of poetry, 
or at least rhymes, and sent apples 
and sugar-plums ; and the girls sent 
notes, and pretty or droll pictures 
11 # 


126 


Blanche’s presents. 


which they had drawn upon paper ; 
even the teacher wrote her a note, and 
sent a bunch of flowers. 

Then the gardener came every morn- 
ing to see Blanche, and to bring her 
some beautiful flower, or a rich ripe 
peach or pear, that had been picked off 
from the sunny side of the tree, and 
was all yellow and rosy without, and 
honey-sweet within. 

And John, the man, would knock 
at her door to say that old Eli had 
sent his love, and hoped Miss Blanche 
was better to-day, and asked her to 
accept a little present he had made. 

So John would take from his pocket 
a set of garden tools, carved from 
wood; or a queer little man or dog> 
which Eli had cut with his penknife ; 
and Blanche, who even while she was 


Blanche’s presents. 


127 


sick and suffering, remembered that 
others too had pains and wants, would 
divide her fruits and flowers with the 
poor old man. 

When John went to carry them, she 
would watch from the window until 
he was out of sight; and think how 
pleased Eli would be, and fancy she 
could see him holding up his hands 
and exclaiming over them ; and her 
own share would taste better, because 
she had been generous ; for every 
mouthful she ate, Blanche could think 
Eli’s pear or peach must have tasted 
just so juicy and sweet. 

Aunt Dora sent a beautiful great 
doll, with two or three sets of clothes, 
that fastened with hooks and buttons, 
like a grown-up person’s ; and could be 
as easily changed. It even had a 


128 


Blanche’s presents. 


night gown and night cap ; and it had 
a hood and cloak for every day, and a 
bonnet and mantilla for great occa- 
sions. 

Aunt Dora wrote too, almost every 
day, and told how much she would 
like to be with her little niece; and 
she told little stories about tliQ farm, 
and woods, and garden, the squirrels 
and birds ; and about the chickens 
that Blanche had seen when they were 
tiny things just hatched from the egg, 
and now had grown to great hens with 
chickens of their own. 











Watching the Birds 


Page 129 










CHAPTER XXIII. 


WATCHING THE BIRDS. 



LANCHE’S greatest 
amusement, during 
her lameness, was in 
sitting by the window, 
and watching the 
thousand little things 
that happen out of 
doors. 

The window of her 
mother’s room looked 
into the garden ; and an elm tree grew 
near the house, shading it from the 
sun ; out from the window was a little 
balcony ; and when the day was warm 
and clear, Mr. Ellis would lift her 


into this pleasant, shady place, where 

( 129 ) 


130 WATCHING THE BIRDS. 

she could see every thing that went on 
in the garden and avenue; and could 
look across through the boughs to 
where the mountains rose against the 
sky, and the beautiful river at their 
foot lay shining in the sun. 

She would watch the fat robins trot- 
ting along the path ; half a dozen 
young ones, with speckled breasts, 
trotting after them ; eating whatever 
they could find, and making clumsy 
attempts to fly ; but so fat that they 
very often fell fluttering back among 
the bushes. 

A honeysuckle had climbed from 
the bank below, and twined itself all 
about the balcony ; this was covered 
with flowers ; and O, such beautiful 
little humming-birds as came whirring 
and buzzing about it, curling their feet 


THE COCOONERY. 


143 


given up the promised walk, when he 
found that she could not make one of 
the party. 

But Henry was called away by some 
business, and obliged to remain for sev- 
eral weeks ; and the gardener had one 
of his rheumatic attacks ; and John had 
so much to do in the greenhouse, in 
consequence, that he could not spare 
time for visiting. Blanche longed to 
go herself and find how her friend was 
prospering. Every chance that she 
had, she still sent him fruit ; and her 
mantelpiece was covered with his pres- 
ents, — the queer little wooden toys. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


.THE LAST YISIT TO ELI. 

FEW days after 

the thunder storm, 

Blanche heard to 
her great joy, that 
Henry had come 

home ; Elise had 
seen him in the 
street ; he was driv- 
ing, but stopped to 
inquire after Blanche. 

And that very afternoon came a' 
note, inviting both the sisters to his 
house ; asking them to bring their 
friends, the other little girls he had 
seen in the churchyard. 

Mrs. Ellis said that Elise should go, 

(144 



THE LAST YISIT TO ELI. 145 


because the gentleman had been so po- 
lite ; but she felt it would be too much 
trouble for him to have Blanche, who 
was still very helpless ; and as she 
could not play about with the other 
children, might need too much atten- 
tion. 

Poor Blanchie ! If there was a 
place in the world where she would 
have delighted to go, it was Henry’s 
house ; and she knew he would ar- 
range so many things for their amuse- 
ment, and enjoy their plays so much 
•himself, it was very hard to stay at 
home. 

She could not help shedding a few 
tears while her sister was dressing for 
the party ; though ’Leedy promised to 
remember every thing that happened, 
13 


146 THE LAST. VISIT TO ELI. 

and tell her about it ; and to repeat 
every story that was told. 

This was not like seeing and hear- 
ing for herself ; and a few months ear- 
lier, I am afraid Blanche would have 
been very impatient and unwilling to 
obey her mother ; but now she had 
been sick so long, that she had learned 
to give up many pleasures. 

She knew by her mother’s constant 
tender care, how much she loved her ; 
and that when she refused any request 
it was for the good of her little girl, 
and not for her own pleasure. 

Blanche tried to play with her doll, 
but the tears would come into her eyes 
and fall upon the dresses, as she put 
them on ; so she took up some bright- 
colored worsted, and began to knit a 
pair of wristlets for Eli. 


THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 147 


She was working away quite busily 
upon these, when the door opened, and 
who should come in but Henry ! 

He had no thought, he said, of 
leaving Blanche out of his party ; and 
had come for her in his own chaise, 
and would promise to take the best 
care in the world that no accident 
should happen, if Mrs. Ellis would 
only allow her to go. 

Blanche did not say a word, but 
looked up in her mother’s face so wist- 
fully, and she had been so good and 
patient about staying at home ; and 
Henry laughed so merrily at the 
thought of her being troublesome, 
that the mother gave her consent. 

She was quickly dressed in a little 
clean white wrapper, and a blue ribbon 
round her waist; then Henry lifted 


148 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 

her in hi$ own arms to the door, where 
his chaise stood ready ; and went quite 
slowly that she might not be tired 
with the drive. 

Before Blanche guessed what he was 
doing, he had turned into the lane 
which led to Eli’s house, and stopped 
before the door. 

The old man came limping out into 
the sunshine, and they were overjoyed 
to see each other ; he looked into 
Blanche’s pale, but happy face, and 
great tears rolled over his own; for 
you know Eli was very apt to cry 
when he felt happy. 

Henry lifted the seat of his chaise, 
and drew forth a paper of cookies and 
some mellow pears ; he laughed as he 
said, “There, you see Blanche has 
not come without bringing you some- 


THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 149 


thing, Eli ! ” but she leaned forward 
to whisper, “ He brought them him- 
self.” 

As the chaise turned away, she 
looked out to see the old man as he 
stood there in the sunshine, with the 
white hair blowing about his forehead 
in the breeze ; with the peaceful smile 
and the poor, tired hands folded 
quietly. 

She always remembered him with 
that quiet, peaceful look upon his 
face ; for she never saw Eli again. The 
gardener went into his house the next 
morning, and he lay there dead ; be- 
side him the Bible, which he loved to 
keep near, although he could not read 
a word ; his knife, and an unfinished 
plaything, which he had been making 
for Blanche. 


13 * 


150 THE LAST VISIT TO ELI. 

Eli had often said that whenever 
God was willing to take him out of 
his poverty, and weakness, and igno- 
rance ; out of the earth where he was 
only a trouble to himself and to all 
his friends, he should be grateful; and 
so glad, that Blanche must not feel 
sorry for his loss. She must think of 
the beautiful heaven, where he had 
gone, and think of him as young 
again, active and happy; no longer 
alone, but with his wife and children 
about him. 

She kept the unfinished plaything 
and wristlet a great many years ; and 
when she thought of Eli, it was always 
pleasant to remember that she did all 
she could, to make him comfortable 
while he lived on earth. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 


ITTLE thinking of 
the great change 
5 which would come to 
their old friend so 
soon, Henry drove 
^9— 'ion ; they soon came 
within sight of a 
pleasant brown house 
among the trees, and 
here he stopped. 

Blanche had gone past the place 
before, and hardly knew it now, it was 
so much improved ; trees had been 
planted, fences repaired, the house 
newly painted, piazzas and summer 
houses built. 



A 


( 151 ) 


152 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 

Elise and the other children ran 
out to meet them. The pleasant lady 
who stood at the door, was, Henry 
said, hi& mother ; she seemed as glad 
to see them, as himself; and while he 
had driven after Blanche, had taken 
them to the side of the house, where a 
swing was fastened into the branches 
of a great elm tree ; there they were 
swinging when they heard the sound 
of wheels, and went to see if Blanche 
had arrived. 

Henry told them to keep on their 
sun bonnets, for he had no thought of 
shutting them up in the house that 
pleasant afternoon ; so they went out 
into the grove, with which they were 
delighted, because it was so much like 
aunt Dora’s woods. 

At the edge of this grove was a 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 153 


shady place on the lawn, where they 
could have all kinds of games; and 
there was a white tent with something 
inside, — they could not tell what, be- 
cause the curtains were all down. 

Between two pine trees a hammock 
was swung. Perhaps you have never 
seen one of these beds; instead of 
standing upon legs, like those in our 
chambers, they hang by ropes from 
the wall, or from branches of the trees ; 
and when they are out of doors they 
swing with a pleasant motion, which 
lulls any one to sleep. 

Henry wanted Blanche to try and 
see how she liked his hammock ; so 
he lifted her into it, and said that now 
she was like a little bird in her nest ; 
and had better stay there and rest 
a while, for she had taken a long ride, 


154 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 

and was not strong enough yet to bear 
much fatigue. 

She was willing enough to stay, and 
have the pine boughs rock and sing to 
her with such a pleasant sound ; she 
lay there watching the children play 
below, and looking up to catch 
glimpses of the sky, which now and 
then was visible through the deep 
green. 

She saw too, hies floating about in 
the air ; and wondered why they kept 
hovering in one place, and did not go 
somewhere, as she would if she had 
wings ; and the young birds in a nest 
kept peeping out at her, and calling 
to their mother, who came very soon, 
with a good large berry in her mouth, 
which she divided among her ravenous 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 155 


children. In the midst of this watch- 
ing, Blanche fell fast asleep. 

While she slept, Henry took the 
other girls to walk about his grounds. 
It was too far for Blanche to go, and 
he left his mother seated in a garden 
chair with her work, to watch and be 
ready to call them when she awoke. 

They went to the barn, which was 
built, if you ever heard of such a 
thing, upon tin pans ; this is a fashion 
which some country farmers have, of 
keeping the rats from their grain ; 
they build first piles of stone, four or 
five on each side of the barn, turn a 
pan upside down on the top of each 
pile, and above all this raise the 
building. 

If the rats run up the stones, they 
cannot creep over the slippery sides of 


156 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 

the tin ; and have to seek other quar- 
ters. 

They looked every where ; into the 
grain chests, and harness room, and 
hay loft ; and into the stalls where the 
horse and cow stood, the latter with a 
calf almost as large as herself. 

In the pigeon house, they found 
some of the prettiest white doves, so 
Tame that they would stand upon Hen- 
ry’s finger, and peck at the oats in his 
hand ; some had fan tails and strutted 
about like turkeys, but they seemed so 
vain, that it spoiled all their beauty. 

In the yard stood a pair of oxen, 
beautiful great creatures, as sleek and 
glossy as squirrels, and with large, soft 
eyes. They were fastened into a cart, 
and Henry told the girls to jump in, 
he would give them a ride; so they 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 157 


were drawn about under the trees 
a while, and then he said they should 
see his ducks and geese. 

So walking beside the oxen, “ haw- 
ing” and “ geeing ” like any farmer, 
he drove on through a path where the 
trees almost met overhead ; stopping 
sometimes that they might pick the 
ripe pears from the trees, for the cart 
lifted them so high that they could do 
it easily. 

Then they beheld a pond, with 
willows growing about it, and the 
ducks and geese sailing in every direc- 
tion. 

“ It almost makes, me wish that I 
was a goose,” said Minnie, upon which 
Henry went to a little house among 
the willows, and drew forth a little 
painted boat, saying, “ If we are not 
14 


158 THE FIRST YISIT TO HENRY. 


geese, we can have a sail as well as 
they.” 

So he rowed them to the other side, 
and the sun was so hot that they did 
not care to go farther ; then called for 
his man to take the oxen back, and 
they walked home through the gar- 
den. 

He told each to pick a bouquet to 
carry home ; and v T ent about with his 
knife, cutting off tough and thorny 
stems which they could not manage. 
His dog had followed them up from 
the boat; it was a large Newfoundland, 
very handsome and knowing ; Henry 
put all their flo\yers into a basket, and 
the dog walked quietly beside them, 
with this in his mouth. 

A gentleman, passing through the 
garden, took a flower from the basket, 


/ 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 159 


to see what Prince would say ; he 
dropped the rest in an instant, seized 
the gentleman’s coat, and would not 
let him go, until he had given up the 
flower again. 

When they reached the grove, there 
lay Blanche still fast asleep ; but the 
sound of their voices soon awoke her, 
and she would not believe that her 
eyes had closed, and she had not been 
all the while watching the flies and 
the waving houghs, until they told 
her how far they had been. 

There were seats made of moss, for 
the other girls ; and there was a little 
easy chair for Blanche. They were 
hardly seated, when Henry opened the 
curtains of the tent ; and there stood a 
table set with berries and cream, ap- 
ples, pears, nuts, cake, ice cream, and 


160 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 

more good things than I can remember 
now. 

He said that Elise and he should 
be waiters, and the rest company ; so 
they passed the refreshments upon lit- 
tle trays; and after they had eaten 
enough, Henry’s mother folded a paper 
of cakes for each to carry home. 

Then they sang a great many songs ; 
and Blanche told about the afternoon 
at Eli’s, and how she wished he were 
there now with his violin. Upon this, 
Henry went to the house for his flute ; 
and though he could not play for them 
to dance, he could accompany their 
songs ; his mother was delighted with 
the music. 

While singing, they arranged the 
flowers, and made each other wreaths 
of oak and maple leaves; they even 


THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 161 


dressed up the old lady’s cap /Itk 
sprays of the tiny partridge vine, and 
some starry little white flowers they 
had found in the wood. 

It was so long since Blanche ha 1 
gone from home, that every thing 
looked new and doubly beautiful to 
her ; the trees had a fresher green, the 
sky a clearer blue, the flowers grew 
nearer together, and had lovelier tints ; 
and the birds sang louder and more 
joyously. 

She only wished that Eli could share 
the pleasure with them ; and did not 
know how soon the good old man was 
going to a home where there are clear- 
er skies and sweeter music. 

But through the trees, they could 
see the sun sinking lower and lower in 
the west; and as they went towards 
14 * 


« ! 7 

1 

162 THE FIRST VISIT TO HENRY. 

the house, they saw Mr. Ellis’s car- 
riage, which had been sent for Blanche, 
standing at the door. 

Henry told the rest to go home with 
the man, instead; and said he would 
take Blanche in his own chaise, which 
was easiest. They were soon home, 
and he was not satisfied until he had 
placed Blanche safely in her chair, by 
the window of her mother’s room. 




CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE NEW MINISTER. 

LANCHE, after a 
while, grew able to 
walk about the bouse 
with a crutch ; and 
then was w^ell enough 
to go sometimes to 
school and church. 
The summer was 
drawing to a close, 
and she did not care 
how soon it went; for she longed to 
have another come, when she could 
walk and run about as much as she 
chose. 

And best of all, in the autumn aunt 
Dora was coming to make her mother 

( 163 ) 



164 


THE NEW MINISTER. 


a visit ; and, when she came, there 
were always good times, if only she 
wouldn’t marry that dreadful minister ! 

Blanche sat thinking about this 
many a time. Her book or doll would 
lie unnoticed, while she wondered if 
something might not happen to the 
minister; if the cars couldn’t run off 
from the track and kill him ; or if he 
could not die in his bed some day, like 
Eli, and leave aunt Dora to marry 
somebody else. 

Cannot you think whom she would 
have chosen ? 

It was wrong in her to have such 
thoughts about the poor minister 
whom she had never seen ; but she 
loved Henry so much, and thought 
him the only person in the world half 
good enough for her dear aunt Dora. 


THE NEW MINISTER. 


165 


And then it would be so pleasant to 
spend her holiday afternoons with them 
both ; to sail herself on the pond, and 
play with the doves, and look at the 
oxen Elise had told her so much about. 
I am afraid Blanche was a little selfish 
in her wish, this time. 

Aunt Dora came, and was as good 
and beautiful as ever ; and as ready to 
give up her own wishes and plans for 
the sake of others. Blanche talked a 
great deal about Eli, and then about 
Henry; and she couldn’t help telling 
aunt Dora how she did wish that he 
could marry her, instead of the min- 
ister. 

Aunt Dora laughed and blushed, and 
told her she didn’t know what she was 
talking about ; and that she felt very 
sure the minister would love both Elise 


166 


THE NEW MINISTER. 


and Blanche, because they were so dear 
to her. 

The next morning was Sunday ; and 
Blanche wanted so much to go to 
church with her aunt, that Mrs. Ellis 
consented. They went early, because 
they were obliged to walk slowly ; and 
as the bell had not begun to ring when 
they reached the church, they strolled 
about in the churchyard ; and seated 
themselves to rest under the oak tree, 
where Henry had made a settee of 
branches and roots. 

As Blanche was showing it to aunt 
Dora, and talking about him, who 
should come in sight but Henry 
himself! 

He shook hands with them cordial- 
ly ; saying, “ I do not need an introduc- 


THE NEW MINISTER. 


167 


tion to Blanchie’s aunt, I have heard 
of her so often.” 

Blanche looked up in aunt Dora’s 
face, and saw the cheeks grow very 
red: she thought, perhaps, this was 
because she remembered their conver- 
sation in the morning ; and while they 
talked together, she limped along to 
church. 

“ Have you come to hear the new 
minister, who will preach for the first 
time ! ” Blanche asked, at which 
Henry laughed, and aunt Dora’s face 
grew red again. 

Blanche understood all when, as the 
minister arose and began to read a 
hymn, she looked up and beheld Henry 
in the pulpit ! She looked at aunt 
Dora, and at Elise, and her mother, 
and longed for church to be over, that 


168 


THE NEW MINISTER. 


she might hear why they had kept the 
secret so long. 

Mrs. Ellis knew, from the first, that 
Henry and aunt Dora’s minister were 
the same ; but she wanted to teach 
her children how foolish it is to dis- 
like persons before one has ever seen 
them. 

That autumn they were married; 
and a great many pleasant visits, a. 
great many sails and drives the chil- 
dren had, with aunt Dora and uncle 
Henry. 


THE END. 


lAYiaiysu 



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